


i'm begging you not to go

by RRHand



Series: crazy in love [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fem!Harringrove, Female Billy Hargrove, Female Billy Hargrove/Female Steve Harrington, Female Steve Harrington, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Harringrove, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Male Nancy Wheeler (mentioned), fem harringrove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26221204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RRHand/pseuds/RRHand
Summary: Stevie takes care of Billie after a rough night. They sort some things out.2 months into their "thing".
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: crazy in love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904338
Comments: 3
Kudos: 57





	i'm begging you not to go

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is pure YEARNING, i'm warning. fluff mixed with angst, happens. for the "child abuse" tag: Billie is roughed up by you-know-who, but there's no mention of how it happened or who did it, tho. see you at the end!

Stevie should've known something was up when Billie ringed the doorbell instead of climbing the side of the house and bursting through Stevie’s window like she always did. How she did that with high-heeled leather boots and denim skirts was out of Stevie’s knowledge, but she knew that was how Billie got in ever since they started this thing, two months ago. 

The brunette wasn’t expecting visitors - Billie usually dropped in on Tuesdays, her father’s bowling night, and weekends when she wasn’t driving Maxine around - but Stevie knew it was her. No one else would bother her at 1 a.m. on a week night, her parents were somewhere in Europe - after a while, Stevie just stopped paying attention where this conference or that impromptu vacation would be - and Hopper or the kids would just call. Billie alone was the one in that forsaken town that had a reason to show up in the Harrington’s house.

And the reason was sex and only sex, Billie made that clear multiple times as much as her actions did. She never stuck around, always zipping up and half buttoning her shirt up with glistening fingers, minutes after making Stevie come a few times and getting herself off. There certainly were no cuddles or sweet aftercare in the wake of the rough rhythm Billie maintained - and no matter how much Stevie actually wanted that, she wasn’t going to beg for the blonde to stay and sure as fuck wasn’t going to mention that she slept better in the nights Billie’s perfume was infused in her pillows. 

But Stevie allows Billie to come back again the next day and the next week and she allows Billie to fuck her into her mattress and allows Billie to call her “pretty girl” when she taunts her in basktball practice either way - Billie leaving was worth it because she undoubtedly came back. And the fact they had started to hang out a bit when Billie had to watch Maxine also helped.

So she opens the door - only in sports bra and pajamas pants, no need to dress up just to get naked - expecting to see the cocky smirk and maybe those nice leather pants that make Billie’s ass look so good, to be dragged into the blonde’s arms, to have her hair pulled. But it’s not Billie Hargrove, new queen of Hawkins High School and badass bitch, on the other side of the door - it’s just Billie, looking crushed.

Billie is slumped against the door’s frame, curls loose, looking to the ground, but the pose and the hair are not enough for Stevie not to see the huge bruise darkening in her right cheek or the split lip or the swollen eye or the finger-shaped mark on her throat. Her normally half-buttoned shirt is torn, completely open, leaving only the black lacy bra to face the chilly night's air and try to cover the purple blooming in her ribs. There's another bruise in her right bicep and the way she's cradling that arm screams _shoulder injure!_. 

She looks up gingerly and grins humorlessly at Stevie’s shocked expression. 

“Hey, pretty girl, you got a first aid kit? I might need a bandaid or two.”

That snaps Stevie out of her reverie and she grabs Billie’s hand and tugs her inside, shutting the big, white door behind them. 

“Yeah, I fucking do. What the hell happened to you?” The brunette asks, astonished, leading Billie to her room’s bathroom, the blond dropping her jacket on the bed and perching in the toilet seat.

“A fight, Harrington, what else could it fucking be?"

Stevie kneels down and starts to rummage through the cabinet underneath the sink, pulling out the first aid kit. She hums.

"A fight? Where did you pick a fight that left you like this in Hawkins? Did you even call the police?" The brunette asks, cetic, digging out the antiseptic and a gauze. 

Billie's tone changes, going from airy and confident to low and flat. "What is it with the interrogation, huh? Why the fuck do you want to know where I get into fights in this hick town?" She starts to get up, wincing a bit. "If you don't wanna fucking do this, Harrington, you just had to fucking say."

Stevie quickly steps into the blonde's path and puts a hand on her uninjured shoulder. The skin is hot under her touch.

"You know I want to fucking help you, Billie. You ring my doorbell looking like you got trounced. What the fuck am I supposed to say but ask how you ended up like this? Especially because your hands look just fine, which means you didn’t fight back."

Billy averts her gaze, looking at anything but her eyes.

"So just sit down and let me clean you up, huh?"

The blonde resists the pressure Stevie's hand makes for a few seconds, jaw clenched, then sits down again. 

Stevie grabs the umid gauze and starts by her black eye. There's not much that can help with the swelling except ice, but she cleans the crumpled mascara either way. When she reaches the split lip, Stevie uses her left hand to angle Billie's head to a better position. As softly as she goes, wiping the dry blood away, the other girl still winces and one of her hands snakes up and grabs the fist with the gauze. Blue eyes lock with hazel ones and Stevie burns with the intenseness of Billie's stare.

"Look, Harrington, I don't…" She starts, but goes silent again, mouth opening but no sound coming out. She keeps Stevie's wrist in her steady grip, the calloused hand stopping the gauze to reach her lips.

"Billie." The brunette mummers, voice low and grave, preparing herself to be shut down after her next words. "There's only one of us here that doesn't care. That doesn't want to care. And that's not me." Her thumb is caressing Billie's left cheek, the uninjuried one, and barges on. "That's all I do, okay? I care. I care. I care about the kids and I care about my stupid ex and his new girlfriend and I care about you. I care about you. Let me help." 

Billie drops her wrist and gets up without a word, sidestepping Stevie without a touch. She walks up to the bed and _that's it,_ Stevie thinks, _that's the time she's gonna leave and isn't coming back._ But the blonde doesn't leave, just grabs a cigarette in her jacket and lights it up. Turns around and considers Stevie for a few seconds.

"You know that's bullshit, right, Harrington?" And Stevie winces because that's the second time she is actually honest about her feelings and gets called _bullshit_. But Billie doesn't care, whatever moment of vulnerability she had, gone. “I mean, you know that’s not real, right?” And she looks intently at the brunette, waiting for an answer.

“What the fuck are you even talking about, huh? What the fuck isn’t supposed to be real between us, BIllie?” Stevie asks with a frown.

“I mean that you don’t fucking care, Harrington. You-”

“Fuck off, that is what’s bullshit.” Stevie interrupts, patience low for Billie’s special brand of “I don’t do feelings” crap.

“No, no, Stevie, you don’t fucking care. You care about me looking like this because you’re a fucking normal person, but you don’t care about me. You care about me coming here and making you come a few times, making you forget that fucking dipshit of a ex that you have and that everyone says you’re head over heels with yet!”

Billie’s heaving by the end of her rant and, for the first time in ever, she can say she made Stevie speechless. Of course, she is still burning with rage, still burning by how she is always dismissed as _bullshit_ , but the blonde is looking to the ground and cradling her ribcage, cigarette dangling from her lips, and Stevie withers. She’s tired of fighting everything in her life, from her parents to demodogs to Billie. 

She sighs, shoulders dropping, and Billie must feel the change in the charged atmosphere of the room, because she looks up.

“I do care about you. Nathan and I are done and have been for quite some time now. I don’t know what to say to make you believe that I actually enjoy your personality and your humor and your jokes, if when you’re being a fucking asshole.” Stevie shrugs. “So sit the fuck down and let me take care of you for once.”

Billie’s looking a bit stunned, like she never knew Stevie liked her, which is unbelievable since even Dustin has been complaining about Stevie spending too much time with that “blonde devil”. Stevie turns and heads back into the bathroom without waiting for her. _Fuck,_ she thinks, _why do I always fall for assholes?_ Sure, Nathan didn’t look like an asshole, but what are cheaters if not assholes?

Billie sits down on the toilet for the third time that night, cigarette between her long fingers. Stevie goes back to her split lip, which is softly bleeding now. She works in silence with only Billie’s muffled grunts and groans as company as she checks her ribcage and then puts the blonde in the shower while she goes downstairs to get an ice pack.

When she gets back to the bedroom, Billie’s already under the covers, eyes closed. The brunette crawls over the blankets, an ice pack in each hand. 

“Billie, babe?” The endearment is a slip-up, but it matches her gentle tone. Stevie watches as the other girl opens her eyes slowly.

“Stevie?” She tries to sit, only to be stopped by the pain, if her grimace is anything to go by. “Sorry, I was just resting a bit.” 

“It’s okay. You can stay as long as you need.” She answers, placing one of the ice packs in the swollen eye. “Here, this one is for your ribs. C’mon.” The other ice pack disappears under the covers and a relieved moan follows. 

Stevie lays down next to her, watching the blonde. She’s never seen Billie look so peaceful, even with the bruises, and this isn’t exactly what she imagined - Stevie dreamed of more hot, golden skin and less purple and yellow marks - but Billie is there, in her bed, resting. It feels like _something._

“You never ask me to stay.” Billie’s sleepy voice breaks the silence.

“You never seem like you want to.” Stevie replies and the blond snorts, lips settling into a sneer. 

“Of course I want to, princess.” Billie’s eyes are still closed.

Stevie crosses the space between them, plastering herself on Billie's side, mindful of her injuries. She lays her head on the blonde’s chest and Billie hooks an arm around her. 

“Okay.” Stevie murmurs. “You can stay, if you want. As much as you want. Whenever you want.” She presses little kisses on the soft skin, the blonde hums, and they stay like that. Billie doesn’t go home that night. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed it! kudos and comments are super welcome! if you enjoy my work, please consider supporting me! see you guys next time!


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